


Surrounded

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: New World Rising [5]
Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 12:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20966447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords





	Surrounded

_I had no idea how to deal with this, how to get out alive. Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead on the barrel of the gun. Out of nowhere, came the static of a CB radio. Slowly, I turned my head, in shock. “Hey, you. Dumbass.” He had to be close to be that clear! “Yeah, you in the tank. Cozy in there?” _Smartass_. I stared at the radio, lips slightly parted._

* * *

“Hey, you alive in there?”

Finally, I snapped out of it. In my scramble to get to the radio, I whacked my head. Not letting it stop me, I got to it. Grabbing it, I quickly spoke. “Hello!”

“There you are. You had me wondering.”

Sweat covered my face as I panted. “Where are you? Outside? Can you see me right now?”

“Yeah, I can see you. You’re surrounded by walkers. That’s the bad news.”

“There’s _good _news?!”

“No.” Straight to the point, huh? What was this, a sick way of taunting me?

“Listen, whoever you are- I don’t mind tellin’ you, I’m a _little _concerned in here.”

“Oh man. You should see it from over here. You’d be having a major freak out.” It sounded like he was halfway amused. Like he was discussing some big movie, and not you surrounded by the fucking undead.

“Got any advice for me?” I asked somewhat sarcastically.

“Yeah. I’d say make a run for it.” Was he insane? A run for it?

I took a moment to process that, my eyes darting around. “That’s it? Make a run for it !?”

“My way’s not as dumb as it sounds. You’ve got eyes outside here.” He had a point with that, but RUNNING? Through a damn horde? “There’s still one geek on the tank, but the others have climbed down to join the feeding frenzy where the horse went down. With me so far?” The more he went on, the faster he spoke.

“So far.” I agreed, wanting him to just get on with it.

“Okay, the street on the other side of the tank is less crowded. If you move now, while they’re distracted, you stand a chance. You got ammo?”

I was getting more into this plan as we spoke. “In that duffel bag I dropped out there. And guns. Any chance I can get to it?”

“Forget the bag!” My mind wandered to the sheer number of ammo and the amount of guns that he was telling me to forget and it was taking everything in me not to cuss the nameless man out. “It’s not an option. What do you have on you?”

“Hang on.” I told him, dropping the handheld to the floor with a light ‘thud’, before turning to look. I grabbed my handgun, looking at the clip quickly. Scrambling, I moved towards the corpse that was sitting in the corner of the tank. I felt over his pockets, my eyes scanning for anything I could loot from the dean man. I spotted a grenade, looking more like a sick Christmas ornament than anything. It looked nothing like I had seen in movies, or on tv. Then again, at this point, all bets were out the window on what I would, and wouldn’t, see. Sweat dripped from my nose as I stared at the weapon in my hand. “Yeah…yeah…” I whispered to myself, putting the grenade in my pocket. I crawled back over towards the CB radio. “I got a beretta, with one clip. Fifteen rounds.” I dared to let myself hope that things would turn out in the general neighborhood of ‘okay’, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

My heart was pounding as his voice came back. “Make. Them. Count.” No shit, Sherlock. “Jump off the right side of the tank, and keep going in that direction. There’s an alleyway about…fifty yards. Be there.”

I let myself repeat his directions in my mind a few times before deciding to say anything. “Hey, uh, what’s your name?”

“Have you been listening?! You’re running out of time!” Rude, much? Just wanted to put a name with the voice. And him telling me one word- his name, would have taken less time than snapping at me.

Opting to drop it, I grabbed my handgun, and a piece of metal I could use for blunt force, I gathered every ounce of courage I had. Quickly, I opened the top door to the tank, pushing myself up. I was met with a bald headed, flannel wearing zombie. Instantly, I whacked him, gashing open his cheek. Scrunching my nose for a moment, I watched him fall back. His body landed on the street below with a ‘thud’.

I ran forward, my mind thinking of one thing, and one thing only- the chance at finding my family. Jumping off the tank, I let out a small gasp of pain, having landed funny. I hobbled as quickly as I could, shooting zombie after zombie. Made me wish I had played more video games before all this went down. I’d grown up around guns, but every shot rang out louder than the one before. Almost deafening. I didn’t stop moving, even if some had to be shot more than once.

Turning the corner, the barrel of my gun was aimed at some guy, who’s eyes went wide. “WHOA! NOT DEAD!” He yelled, turning. “This way!” He didn’t have to tell me twice. I followed him, turning only to shoot now and then, hoping to slow the horde down. “Faster.” He ordered, making me want to slap him upside the head for a moment. “Come on, come on.” His voice was barely audible over the groans of the undead that were following us.

He began moving up a yellow ladder, and two shots later, my clip was empty. I slipped the beretta into the back of my pants, looking around. “What are you doing?! Come on!” His voice snapped me from my thoughts, making me look up at him. My hand gripped one of the bars, pulling myself up. I climbed up after him, thankful to be putting space between them…and us.

Once on the connecting platform, he put his forearms on the railing while I leaned forward. Both of us were breathing heavily, and I could feel my lungs screaming at me.

“Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood.” He panted, our eyes locking for a split second. “You the new Sheriff? Come riding in to clean up the town?”

I shook my head. “Wasn’t my intention!”

“Yeah, whatever. Yee. Haw.” More sarcasm. “You’re still a dumbass.”

Turning, I held out my hand. “Y/N. Thanks.”

He gave it a split second shake. “Glenn. You’re welcome.”


End file.
